I posted this picture by itself earlier this week. No explanation, no description, just the picture. Quite frankly, I didn’t think it needed one.
A bunch of people on the Interwebs agreed. My friends on Facebook (and some of my friends in real life) thought it was awesome, too. It was good enough that Mom and Dad are probably going to include it as part of the New Year’s letter to our family and friends in 2014.
But I’m not writing this to pat myself on the back. Well, not just to pat myself on the back. I think the picture’s inception was kind of interesting and thought it might be worth sharing as well.
It all started on the afternoon of the 17th when Mom, Dad and I went to my little brother’s house to shovel his driveway and sidewalk. Justin and his family were down in Florida for a week, but he assured us that it wouldn’t snow while he was gone. That afternoon was the second time we were at his house during that week because the weather didn’t care what he told us, it was gonna do what it damn well pleased.
A little while before we left the house, Justin texted the whole family a picture of him, his wife and their daughter in a swimming pool, enjoying the sunshine and having a grand old time. Nothing like unintentionally rubbing someone’s nose in their misfortune, right? But it did eventually lead to Minnesotan Gothic, so in retrospect, it wasn’t all bad.
When we got there, six inches of snow was eagerly waiting our shoveling efforts. On most of the driveway, at least. Next to the street, the snowplow had been by earlier, so all the snow on their side of street had been piled up there as well. I have no idea how deep it was, but it was also eagerly awaiting our shoveling efforts. Lots and lots of shoveling efforts.
Thankfully, a neighbor saw us and offered to clear off the end of the driveway with his snowblower when he was done with his own driveway. On his last pass, Mom asked me to take a couple pictures of him at work. Our original plan was to send one to Justin, let him know he picked a good week to skip town.
We finished up and were heading inside for a couple minutes, at which point we decided we should take a picture of ourselves instead. Swimming pool vs. snowdrifts. Sunshine vs. gray skies. Bare arms vs. heavy winter coats. Essentially telling each other “This is what you’re missing.”
Mom used to carry a small camera in her purse and I’d used it to take pictures of all three of us before. When we were in Norway, I got a shot of us on a boat crossing a fjord. (Also in Norway, I tried taking a picture of four people and cut off the outer halves of the outer people, so apparently, my aim was really good and my arm wasn’t long enough.) However, now that she has a phone that can take pictures, the camera was redundant and would just be taking up space.
Without a lens that I could aim and a button to push to take the picture, I wasn’t going to bother trying to get all three of us in a shot. As soon as I thought about Mom and Dad in front of a big snowdrift (“See what we’re sort of, but not really enjoying that you’re missing?”), I immediately opened up my phone, did a search for “farmer painting and there it was: American Gothic. That was our picture.
I showed it to them before we went back outside and initially thought we’d have to take it next to the street. For some reason, though, Justin had been shoveling the snow from their front walk into a giant pile and it was even bigger after two snowfalls. Perfect. Mom was holding a shovel and she and Dad started smiling: “No, you have to be stoic first.” I took three or four pictures that way, giggling pretty much the whole time, then got a couple of them smiling.
Unfortunately, I was holding my phone up high to get a better angle for the picture, so that combined with the light against the phone’s screen (plus all my giggling) meant I didn’t see my finger at the edge of the picture. And that’s why God created Photoshop. Photoshop, smartphones, snowdrifts, shovels, vacations in Florida, my parents and American Gothic. But maybe not in that order.
